


The Silence of the Sea

by the_clock_worker



Category: X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:54:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24056293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_clock_worker/pseuds/the_clock_worker
Summary: *THIS IS A TRANSLATED PIECE**GO CHECK OUT THE ORIGINAL VERSION!!!⬇️ **https://archiveofourown.org/works/23255800/chapters/55689073*Nineteen Forty. The grandpa and grandson who depended on each other were forced to take a German military officer into their home.
Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [【EC】沉静如海 The Silence of the Sea](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23255800) by [Sh_R_Titas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sh_R_Titas/pseuds/Sh_R_Titas). 



Fourteen years ago, right after the passing of his father, Charles Xavier followed her mother back to her homeland France. It was the first time that he ever set foot on the other side of the English Channel, and also the first time that he left the castle forged from stone, moving into his grandpa’s house near the beach.

He stood barefoot on the beach, the rough grits grinding into his toes, the sound of waves brushing against the sand was washing his soul and making him shiver.

Charles was only a naïve six-year-old, he thought that that was the sound of the sea, and the whistles of the steam engines were also a part of it.

Nineteen forty, with the sound that was pounding his soul still in his ears, Charles stood in front of the tombstone that had his mother’s name on it. She passed away as her rheumatism got worse the third year that they arrived here, thankfully she didn’t feel any sorrow when she passed.

As she finally stayed in the country that she truly loved, her homeland.

The young man picked some blue, purple and yellow flower from the plains next to him, it was a combination that they both like, he wished to put them in front of her grave, but there was a sound telling him that this was her gift to him. He touched the young woman’s photo on the tombstone, smiling thank you.

He put the flowers in his slightly rusted bicycle basket and just remembered to pick up the fish from uncle Watson.

“Grandpa, I brought fish--”

As Charles was leaning his bike near the wall, a man with a malevolent-looking face rushed out of his house, he was shocked. Then he realised that these men are from Germany, all neatly wearing their uniforms.

The mostly bald old man followed them outside, chatted with them for a few second and told them to go away: “Please leave.”

Those men did not care for his resentfulness, but still left their house.

“What are they doing here.” Charles took a deep breath, trying to keep his anger down, God knows how much he wanted to punch those jackasses who dared to mess around on day that his mother died years ago.

“Requisitioning our house,” the old man knocked his cane and said, “Are there any fish today? I heard that they all got scared away by the Germans.”

“There are, grandpa, well some fish are brave and resilient.”

“Brave and resilient to get caught by us?”

“Grandpa! That’s not funny!”

He handed the paper bag with fish in it to the old man.

Quickly took off his shoes, Charles brought the flowers upstairs. He twisted the bronze doorknob, walked into the bedroom that belonged to his mother. The special scent of her was still lingering, but was very thin, the curtain with a floral pattern blocked the rays of sunlight, he opened the them so that the sunlight could shine on the clear bedsheet.

He dropped the flowers into the china on the bedside table, this was the only thing that his mother took with her out of the castle, she loved it.

The flowers were beautiful, but it covered a fraction of his parents’ photo, he could only move the photo, to let the flower bring out his mother’s gentle-looking face.

The next morning, the door was being banged as Charles got ready for the day.

“Who is this?” He asked with cautious, the old man knew what was happening, unwillingly opened the door.

For God’s sake, it was the same Germans from yesterday.

Charles was just going to yell at them till they went away, but they took out some documents to put a stop to his actions, “Mr Xavier, your resident is currently being requisitioned.”

“Our house is small and it’s full, there is no room.” Charles Xavier replied grumpily.

“We had done our fair share of investigations, your parents are no longer here and there’s only you and your grandpa in this household,” the soldier didn’t seem to be taking Charles seriously, “A captain is going to move in to your house, I am his lieutenant, living in small house right across the street. Now can you please show me the room?”

Charles was still planning to go all out with him, but the elderly man made the decision before him: “Charles, go show him around.”

“Ok……grandpa.” Charles turned to the side, making way for the lieutenant.

The lieutenant’s boots stepped on the stairs, making creaking noises, Charles’ face was filled with humiliation and red as if somebody actually stomped on it.

First he opened a door, the room inside was rather dull and plain, pure white bedsheet, wooden desk, “This is my room.” Charles squished the words out of his teeth.

He glanced Charles, closed the door, and walked to the next one. His hand covered the bronze doorknob, Charles felt a sudden rush of blood to his face. “No, this is my--” His words were cut off by the sound of the door opening.

“An individual bathroom, good.” He walked in, and looked as if he is really intrigued by the elegant atmosphere of this room, “Good,” he signed again, “this is it.”

He stood with his hands supporting his waist, looking proud and content, and Charles noticed the gun buckled on his belt, didn’t say a single thing.

Old man saw the satisfied lieutenant and Charles down in dumps, realised that something went wrong, “Did you pick one?” he asked.

“Sir, thank you so much, I think he’ll like it here,” The lieutenant nodded, “Captain will be here tonight.

Watching them left with an overbearing pride, Xavier couldn’t control himself anymore and took a strike on the wall. “They took mom’s room, grandpa!” His anger went without saying.

“I’m so sorry Charles, there’s nothing we can do.” Grandpa gently patted Charles’ shoulder and twitched the flabby muscles on his face.

Although the day wasn’t off to a good start, and breakfast sucked--the mouse took a bit off the bread, Charles could only tear that part off, just like cutting off the part of an apple that had bugs in it, but music could always bring a shine to his life. Teaching piano was his only source of income, he now had two students, a quite talented Jewish girl, and a naughty French boy who enjoyed music a lot. He planned to teach the girl first, she had been learning piano for more than two years.

He parked his bike in the girl’s garden.

“Nina?” the girl heard his call and ran from her piano, two braids flying in the air like a pair of wings, she looked very happy, “Mr Xavier!” She greeted.

She can already play the piece that he last assigned fluently, it is beyond belief that she only practised this piece for three days, “Very good, Nina!” Charles praised from the bottom of his heart.

“Thank you, Mr Xavier!”

“You can now practise other pieces.” Xavier met eyes with her mother, “Wait for a few seconds, I’ll get them for you.”

He took out a stack of scores from his bag on the table near the entrance, and handed them into the girl’s hands, “This is the Mozart’s piece that you always wanted, the one with a cheerful melody.” He smiled.

“Really! Mozart!”

“Turkish March,” Charles said, “A major, Sonata no.11, the first movement.”

Charles turned his eyes to the girl, she could not move her excited and joyful eyes away from the notes, “It might be hard, but we’ll take it slow.” He patted the girl’s head.

“I will try my hardest!” her determined eyes filled with confidence, and Charles liked her spirit.

Charles still needed to pick up fish and milk on his way home, so he said goodbye to her.

He heard the girl’s beautiful attempt at the music while putting on his shoes near the door, although she stopped a few times, Charles felt so refreshed just listening to it. He stepped on the bicycle, the sound of music still lingering in his ears.

Travelling with music, his bike ran through the dirt roads of the countryside, he could smell the fishiness and wetness of the ocean breezes, hear the waves pounding in his heart.

Night time came around, the grandpa and grandson duo finished their dinner and was reading in the living room, orange flames gently jumping in the fireplace, the real winter was yet to come, but due grandpa’s health issues, they started lighting the fireplace earlier than others.

“Charlie, did you give the music sheets that Sharon gave you long ago to your student?” The old man asked.

“Yep, but it doesn’t matter, I’ve already memorised the whole piece.” Charles flipped the novel in his hands.

"True, you started playing when you were eight. And whenever somebody is listening to you, you would only play that piece.”

“Haha, that piece is beautiful, and it shows off my skills.”

Grandpa laughed genuinely.

“But that’s your mother’s……”

“Grandpa, you should spread the beauty of art to anyone you can reach.”

Charles closed his book and put it on the wooden tea table near his arm. The old man understood his intention, felt honestly proud of his grandson, and kept the smile on his face.

“Do you wanna hear me play?”  
  


“It’s an honour to hear somebody as good as you play.”

Charles Xavier smiled shyly and walked up to the piano, the piano was looking brand new, dust was nowhere to be found. He opened the lid, black and white keys intertwining, like the elegant swans.

The young man did not wear a tuxedo, he wore a cotton button-up that had been washed for many times, but that didn’t cover the natural charisma of the player, it was like that him and the piano were one, and the black polish was his best tuxedo.

His long and thin fingers stretched on the keyboard, there was no need for music sheets as the music was embedded in his heart. As the tips of his fingers move, gentle music flowed through the house, there was nothing else but the man and the piano. It was Bach’s Prelude, though the old man didn’t know, he understood.

Charles Xavier allowed himself to drift as the music unfolded, his body and his mind were sinking into the sound of the piano, didn’t at all realise that there was a black shadow near the entrance of the living room. He played without caring much, and the old man listened without caring much, the duo had entered another world, no one had noticed the shadow.

Charles finally exited his holy heaven and returned as a mortal. He left out a breath, reluctantly touched the keys, and closed the piano.

“Your playing was excellent, but the arpeggio at the end……I think you improvised it to be too grand, this is a simple but resounding piece.”

They both got shocked by the low voice of a man.

Young man stood up, cautiously staring at this man. There was no need to check his other feature, the German army uniform was enough.

So he looked away, returned to his seat pretending to read.

“Good evening, I am Captain Erik Lehnsherr.” The man started to introduce himself, looking polite as he slightly nodded to both of them.

“They said that I was going to live in a castle, I thought that they were talking about those stone castles from the Medieval.” He tried to soften the mood.

You’ll get that if you took over my house in England, you bastard. Charles complained inside his head.

“Um……The piano playing was beautiful.” Lehnsherr was very tired, he barely kept a courteous smile, then left the living room.

The rhythmic sound of his footsteps drifted away, Charles sighed, heart still pounding, those footsteps sounded like he was right inside his heart, stomping it with all his strength.


	2. Chapter 2

Charles woke up early the next day because of the uninvited guest, he was going to stay in bed for a bit longer, but the soldier woke up just after dawn, opened the tap right across his room.

How annoying is he going to get? Charles covered his ears with a pillow, and rowed to the other side of the bed. The rushing sound of water did not stop, which made him even more irritated and could not fall asleep no matter how hard he tried.

After trying everything, Charles could only sit up near his bed, dragged his trousers from the chair and put it on messily, interpreting just how much longer this guy will stay in his house. He wasn’t a big fan of politics or warfare, so did not have a single idea about what was happening around the world. But the one thing that he did know is that, the land that he was standing on was completely invaded by the enemy.

The country in which his mother fell asleep, might never be her homeland anymore.

“Homeland”--Charles repeatedly bit his lips, as if he was chewing on the word. As a person who was born in Britain, but spent his childhood and teenage years here, France was more like his homeland. Since he had little to no memories for the other country, this was his understanding of “homeland”. 

When his thoughts were floating in the room, he finally heard the footsteps of boots on the wooden floor--on the stairs--then disappeared into the ambience. The stone hanging on the young man’s heart landed, he collected all his emotions and walked out of his room, started his day as if everything was normal.

“Mornin’, grandpa,” Charles sat at on side of the rectangle dining table, facing the elderly man, “hope you had a good night sleep.” He said sarcastically.

“The first floor might be better,” He looked at Charles empathetically, “That person said he’ll have all his meals in the camp.”

“It’s not like we are going in to make them anyways, that’s actually for the best.” Charles took a bite off his bread and swallowed it with some milk.

“He also said that the flowers in the room looked great, he like the colour combination.”

“What?!” Charles put down his bread, “flowers?--Damn it, I forgot to take those out!”

“Oh, then what a nice surprise that you left him.”

Charles was unspeakably angry, he left his spot and went upstairs straight away. He touched the bronze doorknob, the idea of that person also touching it suddenly stroked him, made his hand felt like it got burnt. Not worrying about anything, he rushed into the room.

Everything in the room was exactly the same as yesterday, nothing had changed, the bed was made, the pillows were put away neatly. Charles saw the vase, the frame and the flowers stayed in the same place, he let out sigh, quickly took them into his arms.

Though he didn’t think that Lehnsherr would take this as a sign of friendliness, but he couldn’t take the chances, he thought to himself, and took out a notepad.

And then a pen from the inner pocket of his coat, wrote something down, and put that notepad to where the vase and frame use to be.

ce n’est pas pour vous.

It’s not for you.

He was going to write it in English, as his writing is prettier, but why should he give anything beautiful to him? Why? And he was not going to play piano anymore, not with that German here.

He would let anyone but these bastards to appreciate the beauty of art.

Again, they were the ones who wouldn’t appreciate it, in their mind, art was just splashes of blood, the sound of bullets falling, and explosions.

It was the end of autumn, and the start of winter, Charles put a scarf with the colour of the canary, he felt warm.

He was going to teach the little boy today, and buy some ink in the city. As the to-do list was longer today, he sped the riding of the bike up. Cold wind whooshed across his ears, teared through the gaps of his hair.

Passing the German military camp, he saw a bunch of people were discussing something, a few German soldiers lifted a whole pig on to the car, along with stuff like bottles of wine and sausages, “We don’t even have anything to eat……” A middle-aged man stared at a lady with a hat mockingly.

Charles didn’t get himself involved, he was just about to leave on his bike. Then, a black car drove out from the camp, young man stopped he bike, wishing for this big annoying coffin would quickly move out of his way.

Somehow, he felt a gaze fall upon him, so he raised his head tentatively to look at the car, that pair of brownish-green eyes met with his.

It was him, what an awful coincidence. Charles moved his eyes away awkwardly, thinking to himself just how long this damn car would take to pass.

What he didn’t see was the curiousness in those eyes.

After buying the ink, Charles turned around and arrived at the boy’s house. He leaned the bike on the wall, saw the boy chasing the car that his father was in, “Daddy! Daddy!” he chased cheerfully.

“A new thing that he’s doing.” The wife walked out of the house, “Good morning, Mr Xavier.”

“It is quite intriguing.” Charles was watching the running little kid.

“How is Peter doing on the piano? Don’t know why, he just wouldn’t play in front of us, he said that he will only play for you.”

“Maybe it’s just that he is quite shy!” Charles scratched his nose, “Peter is not as fluent as he was before, probably didn’t practise much.”

“This kid only wants to play outside all day,” she caught the sprinting kid, “Pete, you need to practise more.” She said out of a hinge of frustration.

“Mommy! Was I running super fast!” The kid ignored his mother’s complain.

Two adults met eyes, chuckled slightly.

Returned to his house at noon, Charles scrambled something to eat, took a good nap, he slept just fine without Lehnsherr.

He went and picked up the fish first thing in the afternoon. Charles skipped past the long bridge built up using wooden planks, and crawled inside uncle Watson’s “house” when he was pulling the net up, Charles quickly went and gave him a hand.

There were just several small fish in the net, some of them were still flopping to escape, “Thank God, it’s not bad today, more than the usual.” Watson still remained positive when the circumstance was tough.

“It is more than yesterday.” Charles could only follow through.

He wrapped the fish with craft paper and put them inside the bike’s basket, after drifting off, he again waved hard back at Watson to show his appreciation.

On the way back, facing the line where the sky met the countryside dirt path, he thought of the pair of eyes that he ran into this morning. The bright pair of eyes that hid in between the brow bone and nose bridge, and how the hesitating feel delivered by it caught him for that one second.

But what he would never, ever know, was that the person was his captive the moment that he saw his eyes. Erik Lehnsherr did not see shock, restless or hatred, he only saw the tranquil and silent sea, he saw seagulls flew by, fading into the horizon, elevating from reality. 

As he was getting closer to his cousin’s house, the smell of animal faeces and the sound of animals screaming were getting clearer, Charles did not enjoy that very much, get he got used to them, he knocked on the door: “Ken, you got any milk today?”

The man three years older than him opened up, Charles stepped in holding his long metal pot, “We have some for the old gentleman,” he saw Charles’ worried face, and laughed: “Even more for the young one.”

“Good one, Ken.” Charles raised his eyebrow and handed him the pot.

Ken bowed to scoop milk into the pot, “Charles, we are going camping this weekend, you coming?” He desperately wishful eyes met Charles’.

“Oh……I don’t time this weekend, I have to teach.” Charles made up an excuse without even thinking.

“Okay then……” Ken passed him the milk, the disappointment was written all over his face.

Charles couldn’t bare his sadness, symbolically added on: “Maybe next time.”

At night, grandpa and Charles chatted about what happened today, when he mentioned the pig that was being carried onto the car, the duo happened to look down at the small fish in their plates at the same time, feeling a little bit sad.

“I miss the taste of chicken so badly……” Charles smiled bitterly.

“You just had chicken three weeks ago, remember?”

They were still reading books in the living room after dinner, none of them wanted to be disturbed by the guy who leaves at dawn and comes back near midnight.

The old man asked him why he doesn’t play anymore, yesterday’s melodious music clearly left a remark in his mind, “What do I play then? Mozart, Bach or Beethoven?” He showed off his unwillingness. “It’s not like only Germany has composers!” The old man was unsatisfied but knew that this was not his intention at all.

Charles was reading A Study in Scarlet by Sir Conan Doyle. He had been reading too much ‘deep’ books lately, so chose this book to balance things out. Grandpa was reading newspaper, the only sounds in the house were the flipping of pages and the ticking of the clock.

Charles just got up to the part where the killer was captured and told the story of the past, the sounds of a car engine and that car stopping messed up the peaceful environment, all his interest in the book suddenly disappeared, though this was supposed to be the most captivating part. He knew that it must be that guy returning.

He wiggled his back in the chair, adjusted for a more comfortable position, and kept reading those words that were grouped together.

The man’s footsteps came closer and close, and stopped at the door, he stood as a soldier, “Good evening, gentlemen.” Fortunately, he had no intention of coming in.

“I slept extremely well last night, thank you for providing such a nice room.” But I didn’t sleep well, and the room wasn’t even our idea, Charles buried all his complains into his stomach, and put out a calm face.

“The flowers were beautiful……And I apologise for sleeping in your parents’ room. It’s such a shame to miss to opportunities to meet them.”

Because of the things that Charles did this morning, He couldn’t wait to see the guy’s face when he saw the note that he left him. Charles was content and swallowed that apology smoothly.

Lehnsherr was trying the hardest to find things to talk about, he glanced at the other person from time to time, but that pair of eyes just did not focus on him.

Ah, the sea did not echo back.

“I see that you have a lot of books here. I also enjoy reading, but I haven’t touched one in a long time……” Right after his words, Charles flicked his eyebrow slightly.

“Do you happen to have the book The Sword in the Stone?” He asked carefully, “It’s by T.H White, it came out not long ago.”

No one answered him, but the old man glazed at him for a second.

After the short silence, Lehnsherr gave up on starting a conversation. He knew the reason why, the reason was right here on his clothing.

“I normally return very late, if you don’t mind, you can lock the front door, I’ll enter through the back.”

“Goodnight.” His boots met each other, making a rather serious noise.

Until the closing of the door marked the end of his monologue, the duo did not drop their cautiousness. “Oh, would you please kill me, is he going to monologue every night, Charlie?” Grandpa placed his newspaper on the desk and took off his glasses.

“Maybe.” Charles closed his book and put it in his laps.

“Should we shut the front door?” Grandpa asked for his opinion.

“No, why should we shut it,” Charles answered righteously, “We never shut our front door, why do it for him?”

“Then it’s a no.”

Grandpa got up and grabbed his cane, Charles rushed to help his grandpa. “Do we have that book? Charlie?” Not expecting him to ask that, Charles helped him walked forward, “Yeah, Grandpa, it’s right there, you wanna read it?” He asked.

“I remembered, I know that I knew this name from somewhere, is it one of your favourite books?” Grandpa was proud of himself for fetching a piece of memory, and saw that Charles was lost in his own mind, “Is it, Charles?”

“Oh yeah, but I’m going to put it in the farthest corner right now, or who knows when it’s gonna become the next pig being slaughtered.”

“Hahaha, your joke is very on point, Charlie.”

Only Charles Xavier knew that his idea of doing this wasn’t for any portentous reasons, he was just afraid to have even more connection with that guy.

Erik Lehnsherr returned to the room and put his coat on the clothing hanger. He found that the flowers that were sticking out were no longer on the bedside table, a notepad replaced it.

He gently grabbed the notepad, reading the notes from someone, the disappointment and frustration were craved on his forehead, as clear as day.

ce n’est pas pour vous.

“It’s not for you……”

Is it the flowers, or the sea, the man thought.


	3. Chapter 3

Charles Xavier’s usual good luck didn’t quite cut it when it comes to war time.

Today, he needed to line up to buy some smoked meat, so locked his bicycle aside, right after he grabbed some sausages, the bike was nowhere to be found.

“Did you see my bicycle?” He asked a nearby man who wore a black hat.

“Nah, somebody probably snatched it, this world……” He took out a lighter to lit up his cigarette and smoked.

“Any one suspicious……” “Just give up.”

The man was looking exhausted and let out a ring of white smoke: “My son lost his bike three times.”

Some devastated guy couldn’t do anything but steal. They left the house, took a few steps, just saw a bicycle parked here, there was no one around, and the bike was just stolen. Charles was so angry that he was going cry.

Just kidding! He was not going to cry, but he did feel extremely mournful, the bitterness within almost poisoned him.

He sat on the iron bars that he locked his bike to, wondering if should walk several miles under this cold winter storm. Even with his bike, the tour would take him around twenty minutes, he would definitely grow some calluses if he were to walk.

God damn bastard! It would be much better if they just took his money.

Charles thought walking was the way, as an averagely fit young man, a little bit of exercise won’t hut, it’s just that the foot pain would bring many inconveniences to his day to day life. He stood up, dusted off his clothes, and headed back to his house holding his bag tightly.

Hadn’t taken a lot of steps, he past the German military occupied space, saw the familiar black vehicle, that frosty looking man was sitting right in the back seats. His eyeballs were suddenly spiked by imaginary cactus, reflexes told him to move his sight, cover his eyes with his rather long hair, and look into the window of the shop near him, pray that the person inside would not see him.

He should really cut his hair.

And Erik didn’t actually notice the soulless looking person, he was thinking about things that were discussed during his meeting.

Walking quickly as the same direction as the car, Charles was a little bit jealous, thinking that in the future, when things are more stable, and he could earn a fortune, he would also get a car. Car was a wonderful invention, it made the house seems not as far away.

But right now, he could only walk, he comforted himself: maybe he’ll see the beautiful sunset when he gets home, that’s not bad at all.

However, the only thing he wanted to do after he got home was to sit down, pulled out his shoes and took off his socks as slow as possible, and left his feet out in the air. Gosh, it was so painful.

His feet were worn halfway through the walk, he had tried to walk on his heels and walk with his toes curled, still nothing. Charles looked at his white little toe, with pink cuts on the left and right, seems cruel in contrast. He touched the wound carefully and his face was twisted in pain.

He felt that his heels were also worn. He couldn’t see so well, but believed that they’re in much better shape than the toes.

“The guy just came back, changed, and went back our again,” grandpa came to Charles, “There’s a celebration of some sort.”

“I don’t give damn.” Charles grinded those words out of his mouth.

The old man just found out about his feet, “Oh! Charlie, what happened to you?” He asked.

“My bike got stolen, what a day,” Charles signed painfully, “I walked for a full hour and a half.”

“Poor lad! Don’t be so sad…” The old man said sympathetically, “Just bear with the pain, you will grow some calluses later.”

“Don’t worry about me, grandpa, I can keep up easily.”

“Maybe you can try Grandma’s secret trick.”

The old man smiled, patted him on the head.

Charles dipped his feet in the liquid mixed with medicine, maybe it was the psychological effects, but he felt less of the pain. However, he knew that soaking his feet won’t do a thing. He was stirring the liquid with his foot, and couldn’t stop staring at the ceiling.

Still have to go in town to teach Nina tomorrow, seems like I need a thick pair of socks.

He didn’t really have a thick pair of socks.

Then what can he do?

Thinking of all these nonsenses, Charles didn’t notice that a man walked past him, poking an eye through the curtain. Charles lifted his feet out of the liquid, went around the wounds, and dried his feet with a cloth. When he put his feet into the slippers, he unavoidably touched the wound, causing his facial muscle to twitch even further.

The man smiled uncontrollably after seeing Charles’ face, but the thought of Charles’ cold expression towards him suddenly hit him, Erik tucked his smile back disappointedly, and resumed walking into the house.

He interpreted that it was the uniform that made them uncomfortable, so he decided to change it up, of course, he also didn’t want to damp the air with the smell of wine.

Lehnsherr stopped at the entrance to the living with a black turtleneck sweater, knocked politely, “Can I please come in?” He asked, “It’s too cold upstairs, I just want to warm up here, and I’ll go back up soon.” His reasons were good, but nobody was welling to answer him, so he took that as a ‘yes’.

Xavier didn’t want him here at all, he had some fear towards this guy, but not because of his status, he stared at grandpa to let him stop Lehnsherr, but grandpa didn’t do it. The old man’s expression was saying: “He’s just here to warm up.” And told Charles not to worry about that.

The German squatted in between the duo, put his hand near the fireplace, and blew air into his hands, rubbed them together, seemed more like warming up than some spying operation.

He couldn’t help himself and glimpsed at the face reflexing the light of the fireplace and lost his thoughts for a few seconds, then quickly moved his stare away. “This year’s winter is much colder than before,” he suddenly mentioned, sounding low down, “Same thing with both France and Germany.” The old man thought: the monologue is starting again.

“The fireplace is really warm, there’s also one in my house,” he lifted his lips, “around the size of this one, but burnt more wood.”

Though the man’s voices was cutted into clips and played over and over in his head, Charles didn’t mind him. Damn it, get out of my head. Erik sure didn’t have any idea of that.

He squatted down again, but stood up soon later, Charles thought that he had finally decided to leave, he started walking freely in the room, and stopped before the bookshelves, straightened up his back.

“Andre Gide, Victor Hugo, Balzac……” He touched the ridges of all the books, moving as the same motion as Charles touching those the piano keys, “Some many great authors……all born in France.”

“There are many great artists in France, not only in literature, but in the fine arts, music, dance……To be honestly, I like France.”

Though the first half of his sentence moved Charles, he absolutely despised the second half. He hated hypocrites, in his eyes, this ruthless German murderer did not have the eligibility to say that he ‘likes’ France.

“Oh, I like Gide’s Strait is the Gate……” Erik took out that book, flipped it open with nostalgia, but wasn’t going to read it, “But I never thought that I’ll relate to the characters in it.”

He glanced Charles’ head from the back, that little brown fluffy ball poking out of the armchair, though not moving, Erik knew that he was listening.

When he was performing his monologues, Charles could only try not to think about the words that he was saying, but could not shut his ear completely, why can’t we shut our ears like we can shut our eyes?! Something must’ve happening during the creation time.

“Sher, or Charles?”

The man was standing behind him, but when he said his name, the sound was right next to his ear. Is he trying to ask if I’m French or British? Does he really need to ask?----Sure, he sounds more sexy when he says “Charles”. ----FUCK OFF!

“I think it’s ‘Charles’,” Erik put the book back on the shelf, “I heard that you are from Britain.”

“Sorry, they have to make sure that this place was safe.”

The younger man stayed silent, bit his upper lip even more. He’s patience had almost gone to zero. The hour hand moved to nine, minute hand pointing in between six and seven, he really just wanted to go to sleep.

He was scared that if this kept going on, he won’t be able to sleep for the whole night.

“There are indeed a lot of good authors in France,” the man returned to his original topic and started to walk towards the piano, laid his hand on the lid, “But when it comes to music, then it’s German’s game----I mean, in terms of composing.”

“I like the sound of piano, dull but deep, bright or crisp.”

Charles couldn’t control himself to look at the man’s back, found that he was hurrying to open the lid, thank god that he hesitated before actually opening and left the piano alone, “I really miss this, I was a composer.” He mumbled to himself.

“Before the war, I was working with music, wearing those tuxedos, in recitals. I was getting claps because of my playing. Isn’t it ironic compare to what I am doing now?”

He turned around, Charles swiftly moved his eyes back onto the book, hoping that Erik had not noticed it. Charles was shocked on how different his soul was without the uniform, but the thought of this soul diving into blood and bones, the small appreciation smelted away.

“People in the army, lots of them were forced to join……because of family history……and stuff like that, someone who had nothing to do with guns and bombs, are now standing in between them.”

“Some used pens……Some played strings……Some wielded hammers. They all thought that their clean hand will never be dipped in blood.”

Erik Lehnsherr smiled bitterly, and Charles Xavier just turned his next, changed an angle in his armchair. He didn’t need anyone else to tell him that war is a blackhole and it sucked innocent people in, he knew that a lot of fictions were all based on this topic. But how is it that when it comes to Erik, he couldn’t stay objective?

“Charles, I really liked your playing.”

“Bach’s preludes are some of my favourites, I’m glad that I could hear them that night. Even though I was tired, and couldn’t appreciate it to the best of my abilities.”

“By the way, your handwriting is beautiful.”

“Thank you for not closing the front door. My apology for saying so many unrelated things.”

“Goodnight, gentlemen. The fireplace was warm.”

After saying the last sentence, without looking back, he almost ran back upstairs, Charles could hear that his steps were more rushed and messier than before.

The statues that were the duo finally could stretch their bodies. The old man picked up his cane, “If he is ever going to do a monologue as long as this one, I will really fall asleep.” He signed.

Charles didn’t reply this time, seemed like the silence he kept had taken over him.

As he couldn’t possibly reply the old man with: I actually really wanted to hear that again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late upload!!! But we're back on schedule now..!


	4. Chapter 4

As expected, Charles’ feet were already aching when he only walked a third of the way. He could only sit on a smooth stone near the walkway, took off his shoes, and tucked the socks in the shoes, started to massage that pair of poor feet.

He tried to think of other things to distract himself, such as what he was going to teach today, visiting peter and hang out with him, because peter’s mom asked him to help look after the kid.

Winter’s wind was chilly, as if it had healing power, but the pain on his feet did not reduce.

After resting Charles still needed to get up and hurry, as the teacher he could not be late, so he started putting on his socks. One inch by one inch, trying his hardest to avoid the wound, he could hear the engine of a car rumbling towards him.

Maybe it was last night’s party, Erik got up late.

Because he needed to walk, Charles got up early.

So, the two people who originally shouldn’t be seeing each other magically met on this freezing winter morning, it was unexpected to both of them, but it did happen, and that’s undeniable. Erik sat in the car, saw him sitting on the rock, twitching his brows while putting on socks, combined with him soaking his feet yesterday, the conclusion jumped to Erik.

Erik opened the car door and got off, then he stood motionless, like a tree that grew near the road, he looked towards Charles softly, signalling that he was willing to provide help.

Charles glimpsed him, didn’t say anything, turned his head and finished putting on his socks, and started squeezing his shoes. He was thinking of the wind, how it blew, making his face freeze. Then he thought of Erik’s black wool coat, that should be warm, definitely warm.

But he’d rather stay in the winter wind.

After putting on his shoes, the younger man’s feet were stabbed by nails, he started walking crookedly. Without showing any emotions, he stepped towards Erik Lehnsherr’s car, Erik’s hand laid on the car door, and thought that he was going to bow down, lower his head and get in the car, but he didn’t do that.

Charles Xavier and all his dignity circled around Lehnsherr’s body, accidently hitting Lehnsherr’s rigid shoulder. He stomped on the frozen soil and circled around again, kept a poker face all the way through and didn’t say anything, as if the pain and the coldness were bearable. Limping away, past Lehnsherr and his car.

Don’t you know? He’d rather stay in the winter wind.

The man turned and stare at his shadow, swallowed down the will to called out his name, dressed gracefully but fled in panic, into the car, he smash closed the car door, sat on the empty seat.

He told the driver to go slowly, in case Charles changed his mind, he didn’t exclude that Charles was worried about his masculinity, though the shallow understanding that Erik had towards Charles told him that the possibility was not high.

Erik lowered the window, the sunshine made his green eyes even paler, he stared at the young man walking like machine. The man tried his hardest to walk fast, pretend that he didn’t care about the pain, but Erik knew that it must been hurting like hell.

He had no intention of stopping, his determined eyes told Erik that he shouldn’t be self-righteous, give up the thought of helping Charles was the real helpful and respectful thing to do.

Not saying anything, the man signalled the driver to drive forward. Using the previous speed, the car rushed away from Charles.

As soon as Charles saw the car left, his face was filled with pain. He hurried and say down on the grass nearby, kicked off his shoes and socks, the blood red wound might had a chance of deteriorating. His ocean-blue eyes almost dripped tear, but he tried his best to make sure that doesn’t happen.

He’ll go buy some medicine later.

The good thing was that he got to Nina’s house on time, “Nina?!” He didn’t need to park his bike now, so just went and knocked on the door. The little girl ran and opened the door for him, even though she was smiling, it looked forced.

“Mr. Xavier, please come in.” Nina’s father came, politely led him into the living room.

It used to be the mother who accompanied Nina for her piano lessons, by now Charles still didn’t realise the seriousness of this issue, he only thought that it was good that the father was willing to participate more in the life of the child, since he could barely remember what his father looked like, and didn’t having any memory of his father.

Charles stood next to the piano just as usual, and asked Nina to play the homework he set last time. Nina flipped to the page obediently and found the piece, but her mouth was close the whole time.

The girl started to play, cheerful melody rang, Charles observed to see if the girl’s fingerings were right, also listened closely, he thought her playing would be as good as usual, but today was different.

“Nina! This is not like you at all! Did you practise last week?” Charles thought that she might gotten a little arrogant and thought her gift would take her further than day-to-day practise, “What happened, Nina?”

“Mr. Xavier……Me……I didn’t miss out on my practises……” Nina lowered her head, looked like tears were going to stream down.

Her father stood in the corner, stared at the girl. “Tell me, Nina, what happened?” Charles just realised that he might be too tough, hurried and shift to a gentler tone, “It’s all good, Nina.”

“My dad, he won’t let me……he won’t let me have classes anymore……” The girl poked in the space between a white key and a black key, kept her head low.

“Why?!” Charles asked the girl, but the girl’s father answered, “I’m sorry, Mr. Xavier, our financial situation…is not ideal.” His face looked bitter, bags were obviously hanging down from his eyes.

“Is it because of your job?” Charles frowned.

“Sort of.”

“Those legislations against Jews……you know……”

The conversation stopped here, only the girl’s whimpers could be heard.

Xavier didn’t know what to do either, his head was a mess right then. He looked at Nina, the girl’s heart was shattered, “Mr Wigg, please let me continue teaching Nina----I don’t need money.” He said sincerely.

The man stopped, but didn’t make a decision.

“Nina, keep on practising your piece, I want to hear all you can offer next time I see you.” Charles tried his best to squeeze out a smile, after the girl had nodded, he put on his shoes and left the house.

After picking up Peter, all day of worries Charles had endured lessened, Peter was an active kid, his full of energy relaxed his tired heart.

He held Peter’s hand and went to grab some fish, Peter noticed his strange walking style, even though Charles had already put on some medicine. “Mr. Xavier, did you get hurt?” He asked.

“It’s just that I scratched my feet!” Charles made it sound like nothing, “Don’t wear shoes that don’t fit, and don’t walk for too long, okay!”

“Yes, sir!” Peter showed his smile, but he was missing one of his canine teeth, so it looked rather cute and hilarious.

Two boys held each other’s hands and walk, it seemed warm and sweet. While in reality, Peter tried multiple times to get out of Charles’ grip, and Charles couldn’t let him go on his own, so didn’t let loose of Peter. It was not that he wanted to lock the child’s natural behaviour.

Charles went and got the fish, Peter could finally jump and run freely. The kid followed the white foams created by waves, as fast as he could. Today was not a good day, there were three fish countable fish. Three.

If that’s how it’s gonna be, then let it be. Charles signed and wrapped up the fish, left the beach after thanking the fisherman. He called for the running Peter, he returned obediently, with some sand on his face. Charles wiped them off for him.

On the way back, the two boys still held each other’s hands, but Peter was much quite as he got tire from all that running, he started to grab every chance he got to kick rocks off the road. And Charles had the sudden urge to be a child again, competitively kicked off all the rocks in front of Peter.

“Look, I kicked it farther than you.” He bragged.

“You are taller than me, it’s not fair!” Peter was rather not pleased with Charles kicking off his ‘ammo’, “And the rock you kicked was mine!”

“Oh, is that right?” Charles pretend to not understand, “So what, I do have longer legs than you.”

“I’ll have longer legs than you!” Peter said angrily, “I will grow six inches taller than you!----at least six inches!”

“Then you will be like 180cm----at least 180cm.” Charles replied.

Then they started to discuss just how tall 180cm actually was, Peter thought that it was at least a head taller than Charles, but Charles wasn’t sure about how tall ‘a head’ was, so he couldn’t agree with Peter. He thought he should give him an actual example.

And it hit him, maybe Erik is 180cm-----while at least 180cm.

When they almost got to Peter’s house, the kid saw the pot of geranium on the window, “Mr. Xavier, I can’t go back just yet……” He stopped.

“Why, Peter, you want to play for a bit more?” Charles was confused about Peter’s sudden act.

“No……Mommy said, geranium means that I can’t go back.”

“She needs to discuss grown-up with other people.”

Peter loosen Charles’ hand, walked forward by himself, Charles figured that he just wanted to go around the block. He couldn’t do anything else, looked at that pot of geranium, he continued to walk with Peter.

“Geranium……” Charles guessed, and seemed to have an answer.

It was a strange day all around. Charles and grandpa were chatting about everything that happened, but Charles skipped his encounter with Erik. The old man didn’t think twice, so didn’t get into it.

At night they still sat before the fireplace, the old man said that Christmas was near, Charles answered carelessly, there weren’t too many people in the house, he didn’t have the interest to care about things like that.

When that man appeared before their door, the duo was not surprised anymore. The old man continued reading today’s newspaper, and Charles got up to A Scandal in Bohemia.

“Good evening,” He was still wearing the same things as this morning, which just made his slim body even taller, “It’s pretty cold today, hope that none got you got a cold.”

He smiled lightly, and quickly went upstairs to change out of his clothes.

He had put on a pair of loose pants, clean white shirt with suspenders. He looked like someone who write for a living. Charles judged after taking a short look at him.

Maybe it was the style of the clothes that gave him more confidence, this time he ignored all the careful greetings, and came in near the piano.

“Can I sit on the stool? I really miss the feeling of playing piano……”Erik’s voice was soft, not sharp at all, “please relax, I won’t play it.”

No-one answered him, the man took that silence as a ‘yes’. He sat down at the edge of the stool, and watched Charles flipped his page.

“Did I mention last night that I like playing piano?” He asked randomly, then changed, “It’s not that important anyways.”

“But I probably didn’t mention that I like the ocean?”

Erik Lehnsherr moved his eyes from that head, and turned to face the little ocean shown through the window. At there, the waves were still pounding the beach without hesitation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!!! Hope you enjoyed this chapter!!!  
> *Shameless self plug*  
> If you wanna read more Cherik stuff, i happened to be writing a Cherik fic based on the movie The Legend of 1900 ⬇️  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/24190777  
> Maybe give it a shot?? ;))

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly this fic is one of the BEST cherik fic there is, anyone who can read in mandarin should really check the original one out, I feel like me and my broken English didn't do it justice :((  
> Much love to all the readers and the OG Sh_R_Titas (https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sh_R_Titas/pseuds/Sh_R_Titas)  
> Shore.


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